Chapter Sixteen

Angela

I fidget in the seat as Logan turns off of my road onto Highway 71. The hem of my blue dress flutters above my knees as the air blows through the vents. This date is a surprise, so I have no clue where we’re going. If I had to guess, I’d say it was somewhere fancy, because Logan has changed into black slacks and a blue shirt that matches my dress.

“You’re still not going to tell me anything?” I ask.

“No,” he answers, grinning. “But you won’t have to wait long.” A few minutes later, we pull up to Crowley High School. And I’m looking at him like he got lost on the way.

“What are we doing here?”

“Just a pit stop,” he says.

I exhale and gaze out the window toward the football field. “Good. This place is not exactly full of fond memories.”

Logan runs around the car, and opens my door. He pulls me past the office and the gym, toward the fields. My short legs and tall heels work furiously to keep up.

“Aren’t we trespassing?” I ask, scanning the dark trees around the school.

“Yep,” Logan answers. He guides me to the home side of the bleachers and stands at the fence surrounding the football field. I lean there, my back to the fence, as he gives me that smirk I love.

“And what did I have to get so dressed up for?”

“We’re celebrating tonight,” he answers, dropping his mouth to my neck and placing soft kisses there. My heart thumps against my chest as my hands rest on his waist.

“Celebrating what?”

“New high school memories,” he says. “New beginnings.” In a motion too quick for me to protest, Logan lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder. I squeal and beg him to put me down, but he just ignores me. I can’t see where we’re going, but it suddenly gets dark. He sets me down on my feet, my hands gripping his shoulders for support. When my eyes adjust, I realize we’re under the bleachers.

Logan gives me a lopsided grin and points to the metal support just behind my head. I look up to find his name carved into the beam.

“Trespassing and vandalism? How did you end up in law enforcement again?”

“Ever make out under the bleachers?” he asks.

I lick my lips and shake my head.

“Good. I’ll be your first.” Logan’s hands cradle my face as his lips press against mine. His mouth is aggressive while his touch is gentle. Every part of my body is awake and alive, burning for more of him. My head spins and I want this to never end.

I lean against the metal beam as Logan presses forward, his knee sliding between my legs. We are a mess of roaming hands, shifting hips, and hungry kisses. I have trouble believing anything was this good at the age of seventeen.

“Imagine a couple hundred people in the stands above you,” he whispers against my skin. “They’re up there cheering, stomping, the bleachers vibrating against your back.” Logan’s hands slide up the outside of each thigh, bringing my dress with them. His fingers reach the lace of my panties and trace along the edge. “Completely unaware of the naughty things you’re doing.”

He drops to his knees as I try to catch my breath—my hands still holding onto his shoulders. Logan hooks his fingers beneath my panties and slides them down my legs. I lift each foot so he can remove them completely and watch as he slides them into his pocket with a wink. He leans forward now, pressing his face into the fabric of my dress, just below my navel. I can feel the heat from his breath seep through the thin material and fan across my skin. It sends chills across my stomach.

“What if I just stay here, Angela?” he asks. My mind is scrambled and I don’t have the ability to answer. “What if we just skip the date and I bury my face right here for the next couple of hours?”

I moan as his hands wrap around the back of my thighs and he places a kiss where they come together. My whole body shakes with excitement and anticipation. My head rolls back, my eyes close, and I know I’d die happy if the bleachers came down on top of us right now.

A blaring horn startles us both. It’s Logan’s truck alarm.

“Are you kidding me? Did someone try and break into a cop’s car?” Logan gets to his feet and plants a kiss on my lips. “Maybe another time.”

I’m only a little embarrassed by the tiny whimper that escapes my lips. He gives me a knowing grin and leads me back toward the school. When the breeze blows over us, it’s a cool welcome on my overheated cheeks and a new, amazing feeling up my skirt. I let out a giggle at the whole situation.

Before we get to his truck, Logan scans the area. He hits the key fob to make the alarm stop and inspects the doors of the car. Nothing looks suspicious. I stand there, my arms wrapped around myself, trying not to feel creeped out in the dark.

“Probably some asshole kids,” he says.

“You mean, like you were?”

“Yes, smartass. Just like me. A good ole troublemaker,” he says, pulling me into a hug. “That’s one reputation I truly earned. Come on,” he says, leading me to the school gym. He pulls on the door, which surprisingly opens.

“If I’m with a deputy, I probably won’t get arrested for breaking and entering, right?” I ask as he leads me inside.

Logan flips a switch near the door and I gasp. There are blue and white crepe paper streamers everywhere. They cover the walls, the doors, and even the windows. A glittering disco ball spins from the ceiling, casting dots of light in a swirling pattern around the room. Bubbles float around us, popping against my skin. Music plays from speakers in the corner and a huge painted banner hangs over the opposite doorway: Under the Sea.

“What is all this?” I ask, my eyes skipping around the room to take in more details. Logan grabs a small box from a nearby table and removes a white flower corsage. He slides it on my wrist before kissing my hand. “This is your prom, Angela Lavelle.”

I grin and shake my head in disbelief.

“I hope you don’t mind that it’s a private event.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I whisper. My chest tightens as pure joy consumes me. A giggle slides from my lips as I take in the whole scene.

“Shall we dance?” he asks, his smile matching my own.

Logan leads me to the middle of the room and wraps one hand around my waist. His other clutches my hand as he spins me around and then pulls me close. We sway to the music, lost in each other and this ethereal moment.

“You…” I start, but don’t finish my thought. “How did you do this?”

“I have connections,” he says. “And people always willing to help.”

I glance around the room again, finding it all unbelievable.

“It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

“For you, I am,” he says, lowering his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft and yielding, a stark contrast to our bleacher make-out session. I marvel at the idea that Logan Sawyer can still surprise me.

One song ends and a new one starts. I’m even more impressed when I realize that all the music is from the year we graduated high school. We don’t leave the dance floor. I’m pleased to learn that Logan is a good dancer and am downright shocked when the faster music kicks in with heavy bass beats and he keeps up.

I turn and press my back to his chest. We both keep rhythm as I wiggle my ass against him. Logan’s arm snakes around my waist, his large hand holding me against his body. When the song ends, we’re both spent and a little sweaty. He nods toward the corner of the gym and I follow.

“I almost forgot,” Logan says, hopping up and grabbing two insulated thermoses from a nearby box.

I take a sip and give him a satisfied grin. “No prom is complete without punch.”

He removes a flask from his pocket and pours some alcohol into each of our cups. “And no high school dance is complete without pocket rum.”

We both laugh and clink our thermoses together. “To new high school memories,” I say.

“To us,” Logan says, before swallowing down half his drink.

We dance to a few more songs. As he holds me close, I can’t help but feel overly emotional about the whole thing. For someone to go through all this effort just for me, well, I never knew how special that felt until now.

Logan has shared so much and shown me so much of who he is, and here I am still keeping this secret inside. It makes me feel like a hypocrite and a liar and I know I’ve got to confess soon.

“Have you had enough of prom?” he asks.

I nod.

“Okay. But first…” Logan leads me over to a well-lit corner and makeshift photo booth. We take a few pictures—the standard cheesy prom photo poses—and a one where he’s kissing the hell out of me. The whole evening is surreal and I wish I could hold onto this feeling forever.

We head outside and stand beside his truck. “I had a great time tonight,” I say. “This was definite wooing.”

Logan grins. “Glad I got it right for once.”

Overwhelmed with my feelings for Logan, I pull him to me, scraping my nails through his hair. He hums against my lips, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands slide up my legs, pushing the skirt of my dress up. I untuck his shirt and work at the buttons. My over-excited fingers making the task impossible.

“Not here,” he begs. “Let me take you home.”

I press a hand to my chest to calm my pounding heart and nod. “Okay.”

The ride to my house is the longest trip ever. We’re both so worked up that the tension in the air is palpable. I can still taste him on my lips and I just want more.

The truck is barely in park before we’re both hopping out and running up the steps of my porch. I fumble with the keys while Logan wraps his hands around me from behind. “Now, if we were still in high school, here is where I would kiss you good night, drop you off, and watch you go.”

I finally find the right key.

“But we’re not. So, I’m coming.” He sweeps my hair aside and places his lips against the shell of my ear. “But not until you do.”

“I can’t concentrate,” I breathe. I finally get the door unlocked and push it open. “Get in here,” I say, pulling him inside and pushing the door closed behind him.

The hunger in his eyes creates a tangible electric charge between us. My pulse races as I realize that this is really happening. Logan Sawyer is here and he wants me—maybe as much as I want him.

Leading him down the hall, I turn on the lamp in my bedroom and pause in the doorway. I’m not sure how to progress from here, feeling like an awkward virgin all over again. I shift from foot to foot and turn to face him. Logan’s smile is warm and it calms me.

His hands reach for the hem of my dress and he slowly pulls it over my head. I am now completely naked except for the four-inch heels on my feet. Logan’s eyes rake over my body. His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and I hold my breath. His hand slides around the side of my neck, tucked under my hair, as his thumb sweeps across my jaw. I feel so vulnerable and exposed I fight the urge to cover myself.

“Angela,” he says, his voice strained. “Somehow you are even more beautiful than I imagined.” Logan steps closer.

I exhale and sweep my bangs from my eyes.

“And believe me, I have imagined you like this plenty of times.” His words dissolve any restraint left in both of us.

Our kiss is clashing tongues, teeth scraping over lips, and desperate hums of pleasure. My hands fumble with his shirt, working the buttons one at a time. When I can’t manage to get the third button, I pull away, gasping for breath, and focus on my work.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” I say.

Logan smirks and watches my fingers continue working the buttons down his shirt. When it’s done, I push the material away from his body and he shrugs out of it. Tan skin pulled tight over dips and curves of hard muscle. It’s a glorious sight. My hands reach out to touch him and the moment we connect, I know this was always meant to happen.

As my hands roam over his chest and shoulders, Logan unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to the floor. His eyes never leave me, raking down my body and back to my nervous face while he toes off his shoes and socks. Finally, he is left standing with a sexy grin and a pair of dark gray boxer briefs that make him look like an underwear model instead of a small-town cop. His erection is obvious and it empowers me knowing that I am responsible for it.

We fall onto the bed together, laughing when my elbow connects with his ribs.

Logan rubs the spot and grimaces. “Damn, babe.”

My cheeks burn and I want to crawl beneath my sheets to hide.

Instead, Logan kisses my nose and whispers, “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

He rolls me onto my back and places a kiss between my breasts. His mouth moves to one side, gently biting my nipple. It grows hard in his warm mouth as his tongue flicks back and forth over it. Logan’s hand slides up and squeezes my other breast, his thumb sweeping over my nipple and getting the same reaction. My eyes want to close so that I can relish this moment, savor every feeling, but my mind screams to watch this happen in case we never get it again.

While I rake my fingers through Logan’s hair, his mouth moves south, leaving a trail of wet kisses down my stomach, over my hip, and on the inside of each thigh. My thighs fall apart, inviting him in, and I’ve never been so desperate for anything in my life. His hot breath fans over me and it sends a chill down my legs.

Logan slides off the bed so he is kneeling on the floor. His large hands wrap around my calves and I yelp when he pulls me to him in one quick move. He places each foot on his shoulders and it’s not until then that I remember I still have shoes on.

“I can take them off,” I say as his hands skim up my legs.

“Like hell you can.”

His mouth is on me now and my hips rise up to meet him, eliciting a gasp from my lips. His tongue slides along my slit, tasting me, and I am lost. I moan as my hands claw at the bed sheets. Logan moves slowly at first, circling my clit, teasing me until I am a whimpering mess.

“Logan,” I beg. “Please.”

Logan Sawyer is the kind of man that does not need to be asked twice. He presses his mouth against me harder, his tongue lapping at the perfect spot. My hips buck off the bed, until he throws an arm across my stomach to keep me in place.

“Fuck,” I pant. “Yes.”

I can feel the energy inside building and building. My hands grab hold of his hair as I grind against his tongue. When Logan hums and slides two fingers inside me, I fall over the edge. I cry out as white lights dance behind my closed lids. My body arcs up off the bed as he continues to work me over. Every muscle pulls tight and I am voiceless until I have to beg him to stop.

As I lay there panting, enjoying the lingering tingling feeling in my fingers and toes, Logan works his way up my body.

He buries his face between my tits and stays there. “I want to live here,” he says.

I run my fingers through his hair and wrap my legs around his body. “If you’re looking for an invitation, you’ve got one. Condoms are in the top drawer,” I say, motioning to my nightstand.

I move to the center of the bed as Logan grabs a condom and slides it on. He crawls over me, his muscled arms caging me in. I run my hands up his biceps and over his shoulders, noticing angry red marks on each side.

“From my shoes?” I ask. He nods. “I’m sorry,” I say, rubbing at them with the tips of my fingers.

“Totally worth it,” he says, then kisses my lips.

Logan presses the head of his cock against me and I take a deep breath. It’s been a while for me, and he’s a big guy, so I prepare for some discomfort. But I also know this is something I’ve been dreaming about since I first discovered sex. This moment has haunted my dreams and fantasies for longer than I care to admit. It feels significant. And as Logan Sawyer pushes inside of me, it feels like this one act was made solely for the two of us. That thousands of years of sex had all been mere practice and preamble to get Angela and Logan to this one moment in time.

Destiny—an important chapter in our story.

His eyes never leave mine as he moves his hips against me. Sliding in and out in a slow, sweet rhythm that has me craving more. My fingers lock behind his neck and he hikes one of my legs up against his ribs. This adjustment sends him deeper inside me and I want to cry at the physical and emotional feelings prickling at the surface.

Logan’s mouth lowers to one of my breasts as he continues filling me over and over. He sucks and licks, biting gently and then a little harder when I moan. He is a master at reading my body, knowing what I need. His pace speeds up and just when I think I’ll explode, he slows down again, pulling me back from the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “So sexy.”

My mind and body scream for another release as I rake my nails down his back. Logan slides one arm beneath me and rolls us over so that I’m on top.

“Well, that was a smooth move,” I say with a grin.

“You okay?” he asks, his hands on my waist. I roll my hips, lift up on my knees and slide back down. He groans and bites down on his lip.

“I’m perfect,” I answer.

“Fucking right,” he says.

Now that I’m in control, I move over him at my own furious pace. I watch the muscles in his chest and abs tighten every time I slide over his cock. He’s struggling for control and my only goal is to make him lose it.

I place my hands on his chest and move faster now. Every time our bodies collide, we let out synchronized breaths, feeling the approaching climax of this moment. My hair bounces around my shoulders as Logan’s hands fly to my waist, guiding me. I feel a tingling in my toes, the energy building in my center as I work him over. I can see Logan straining, the muscles of his arms pulled tight as he holds onto me.

Finally, my orgasm hits me like a crashing wave and I scream his name. My body is electrified from the inside out and I lose my ability to continue. Logan pulls me down one last time and grunts as he finds his own release. I fall onto his chest and he wraps his arms around me, our heaving chests pushing against each other.

“Amazing,” he says, his hands rubbing gentle circles on my back.

“Amazing,” I repeat, not having the words or brainpower for anything more.

After a few minutes of basking in the afterglow, I curl into his side and throw one leg over his naked body. His skin is warm against mine and I want to ignore the outside world and stay here forever.

“What’s your favorite memory from childhood?” Logan asks.

“It’s hard to pick just one,” I say, absentmindedly tracing my fingers across his chest. “Probably the one year my dad brought me to the Kansas City Comic Con.” A smile pulls at my lips at the thought. “Dad and I shared a love of comic books, but I’d never seen him in that element. Up until then, he’d just been my dad the farmer. That day, he was the biggest fanboy ever.”

Logan places a kiss on top of my head. “I went a few times with my dad, too. I wonder if we were there at the same time.”

“Guess we have more in common than we knew, huh?” I ask, circling his navel with my finger.

“I guess so.”